


20-20 Vision

by Mainly_Bridget



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, LASIK, Like blindfold kink but not, Minneapolis vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27064624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mainly_Bridget/pseuds/Mainly_Bridget
Summary: Ben doesn't mind being unpopular - if his coworkers can't handle his brutal honesty it's their loss. That being said, he does need at least *one* person to drive him home from Lasik surgery next week.He'll just have to ask the office sweetheart, Rey, to help him out. She might hate him, but she won't say no.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64





	1. Blurry

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! 
> 
> If I'm missing tags, let me know and I'll drop them in. Same goes for formatting/errors if you spot them. Thanks for reading!

Armitage called over his shoulder while brewing coffee. “By the way Rey, can you give me a ride to work?”

Rey sat at the dinette counter, scrolling through her work emails . Sleeping in on Monday mornings were a bit of a gamble - as long as her first meeting wasn’t until 9 she could snooze the alarm three times before leaving the comfortable cocoon of her bed. She’d taken the chance today, but Armitage’s question threw her calculated morning into chaos.

He seemed to sense her distress, and began a well-learned process of wheedling. “I’m making you coffee…?”

Rey met his pleading eyes. Armitage’s heavy blonde mop flopped periodically over one blue eye, temporarily breaking the spell. She was weak to his MTV pop-star charm in a way that left her feeling like hot garbage after every encounter. Especially now, pretending that they were fine after the big break up.

“Fine.” She could be a half hour late. She tapped into her calendar, rescheduling the placeholder for her project work to the afternoon. Her time had gotten precious lately, but surely only a true scrooge would draw that line on the needs of friends.

She was feeling generous. New apartment with her boyfri- roommate.

Armitage was just her roommate now. He’d met someone new after they’d signed the lease, and had begged so desperately to take the spare room.

What was worse, really - admitting to her family that she’d moved too fast or cohabitating with the one human thick enough to ignore her subtle suggestions?

Rey pulled on her coat, waiting for Armitage to shuffle his things together in his adorkably slapdash way. He moved around the entryway with purpose, stopping briefly back in the den—

She’d have to stop it calling that. It was his room now.

Armitage’s voice was soft, mumbling something as he dug for some missing item. Four-to-one odds it was his wallet.

When he hustled back to the door, Rey knew she’d lost her bet.

Not a wallet, but a lovely delicate blonde creature had been waiting in Armitage’s room.

He had at least the grace to look sheepish about it. “Can you give Bazine a ride too? She’ll be late if she takes the bus.”

The drive downtown started silent, but what Rey was sure was tension turned out to be a distraction on her passenger’s part. Armitage playfully flicked the radio on, turning it to the syndicated pop station.

Rey winced. “Do you ever feel like morning is it’s own delicate song?”

Armitage shrugged before answering, his eyes guileless. “No, I really like a strong beat.”

“Oh yeah! Me too!” Bazine leaned forward from the back seat, resting her elbows on the leather divider like a dog on the way to the park.

Thank god Bazine was dropped off first. She had dogs to wash in the trendy uptown area, apparently. “How is the healthcare coverage at… was it called Woof Poof?”

Bazine gleefully replied “Oh I don’t need it, I never get the flu” before flouncing out, slamming the car door slightly too hard.

“So Rey, what are you doing tonight?”

“Oh well I’m free.”

“No plans?”

“No, why? I can pick up pizza if you want to —”

“Actually,” Armitage paused, turning to sheepishly wink at her. “Could I buy you a movie ticket? Bazine is coming over tonight and it might be more...intimate than you wanna be there for.”

Rey’s blood ran cold. He was surprisingly sly. She didn’t think he had it in him. Her college friends had pulled this move back in the day, but… “You know, I understand if you need to look for another place to have enough space for Bazine—”

“Oh no! Bazine can’t possibly afford something as nice as we have. This is a little awkward, but I am happy to deal with it.”

“You’re happy to deal with it.” Her voice was flat. That was a victory of control. At work it would have been enough to scare Tallie and Finn shitless. Which she did, occasionally, when Ben pushed her buttons.

Ben actually seemed to enjoy their interactions after he’d pushed her into her warning tone, as fucked up as that was.

Armitage didn’t notice. “Yeah, I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that.”

Hmm. Armitage either thought she would be upset to have him move out, or was sure she was too polite to mention that she was paying seventy-five percent of the rent.

And, well, he was right. She wouldn’t dare, on principle.

The tense, or oblivious depending on which side of the car you sat on, silence extended on. Armitage bounced from his seat once Rey pulled over in front of Pets ‘R’Us, pausing briefly to rest his arm along the open window. He thrust something towards her, waiting with a broad smile for her reaction.

It was a thick piece of narrow paper. “What’s this?”

“Your ticket!”

“Oh, right. The movie.” Rey turned the slip of paper until the writing was clear— Judge Dread. Great.

“Thanks, Armitage. Have fun tonight, I guess.”

Rey peeled out of the strip mall parking lot, waiting until she’d pulled onto the freeway before slapping the radio dial into pristine silence. She rolled the windows down and opened the sun roof. With an exhale of carefully held tension she raised the ticket into the rushing air around her car and let it fly.

* * *

Ben watched the clock absently as he completed the third set of arm curls, the ticking of the analog clock lost in the hubbub of clacking weights and puffing athletes across the gym. There were only twenty minutes left in his workout, and his plan to deal with this weekend was no farther along.

His parents were out of town, sending snapchats from Hawaii. His uncle was working all weekend. Alex didn’t have a car.

Ben’s vision went sideways - his glasses had slid down his nose again during reps. This, in addition to the new floaters clogging his eyesight, was what drove him to sign up for surgery Saturday afternoon. It was pretty exciting to this that he’d be at 20/20- ish come Monday. As close to perfect as his body could be this late into the game.

The only hitch was his lack of transport. He hadn’t planned ahead. The taxi fare would be astronomical if he couldn’t find a ride.

At least there was the work happy hour tonight.

His coworker Finn’s voice boomed over the cube walls.“‘Lo Ben!”

“Morning, Finn.”

“Coming to the happy hour tonight?”

“Yep, and I’m looking for a wingman.” What were the chances that Finn even remembered—

“You know you can count on me. What kinda girl you shopping for?” Slim to none.

Ben sucked air in through his nose, amping up to sound as carefree as possible. “One with a car and who’s free on Saturday. And at this point, I swing both ways.”

Finn’s voice tightened ever so slightly. “Ah, man, sorry. I wish I could help on Saturday—”

“No man, you have church, I get it.” Who the fuck has church on Saturday afternoon? But whatever, it was the kind of excuse only a neanderthal would challenge. Well, neanderthals and people done with polite lies. 

Which, on second thought, fell in his wheelhouse.

“You know,” Ben lobbed over the cube wall, keeping his tone as casual as possible. This wasn’t an attack, it was radical honesty. It was a philosophy. “I know you don’t have church. You don’t have to lie to say no to me. Next time just say no. I promise I won’t push you over it.”

Silence stretched on. Finn must have had a panic attack or had just gotten on a conference call. Either way, this was a moment to not care - either response would flow downstream by the end of the day.

“...Okay, Ben. Tonight we’ll find you a D-D.”

Ben broke into his emails. He could survive at best thirty minutes before caffeine withdrawal would send him to a dangerous mental space. By the time he took his jaunt to the breakroom to make a pour-over coffee the office was filled with a subdued clacking of keyboards.

The presence of a coworker loomed behind him in the breakroom, and at first didn’t bother turning. Whoever it was would come back in five minutes when he was done.

Except they didn’t leave. They seemed to hover over his shoulder, prompting a cursory glance back. 

It was Rey.

Her dark brown hair was down today, tossed in wavey carelessness. It would probably be curly like his own, but she must be using some mass market shampoo with sulfates. Her hair looked like his before he’d learned about it himself. Rey’s deep brown eyes watched him cautiously as she shifted her weight between feet.

Her timid hovering filled Ben’s chest with something hot and angry. Rey could _not_ pick a fight to save her life. She got angry once in a while— he’d overheard her ranting to Tallie about one of their coworkers idiot plans. Listening to her voice travel over a range of notes and decibels had been mesmerizing… up until her comments turned to a nuanced plan of how to overturn that plan without direct conflict.

She was a master manipulator. Rey had a heart of gold and a mind to match, but her key skill set was rooted in cowardice.

Every time they spoke Ben left wishing he could shake her. Yet, he couldn’t avoid her. Any attempt to coerce her towards the dark side of radical honesty was too tempting.

Rey broke eye contact, moving towards the instant coffee maker on the other side of the break room.

Ben’s eyes narrowed. That coffee was absolute shit. Of course instead of asking him when he’d be done, or talking to him at all, she’d just take the hit of inconvenience and drink the dirt water the company dished up.

He couldn’t bite his tongue any longer. “You need the hot water? Don’t drink that coffee. Just ask.”

Her spine straightened, but she didn’t turn. “It’s fine.”

“Next time ask me to let you in for hot water. You can make your black tea. Just _ask me_.”

Rey whipped around, her cheeks flushed and eyes flashing. She seemed to be staring daggers at his adams’ apple. “Fine, can I get in there for a literal second to make tea, Ben?”

“Yes, ma’am.” A sick satisfaction twinged at making her temper break. The spineless office darling was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He shifted, leaning against the formica countertop to swirl his half-finished brew.

She stood close to him by the hot water boiler for a whole fifteen seconds until her mug was full. If the little crease between her eyebrows was any indication, she was fighting the urge to tell him to buzz off and out of her space. The creeping tinge of anticipation trickled down his throat, echoing the drizzle of hot water into her mug. Then the spell was broken with her muttered “thanks” and muted shuffle out of the little kitchenette.

Ben turned back to his pour-over, twisting the cup slowly under the steady stream of steaming water until his artisanal brew was complete.

* * *

Fridays were sacred, and almost completely immune to ruin.

Except she’d been accosted by the resident grim reaper before noon in her routine journey for tea. Fucking Ben. He never let her exist in the same space without tormenting her, and she had no idea why. She’d never crossed him in a meeting, never cut him off in the parking lot.

So what was his fucking deal?

Rey had to risk another trip to the breakroom to fill her nalgene at lunch. For a long moment she held her compact, debating pulling a Hermione and checking around corners with the tiny mirror.

No. She couldn’t let him rattle her to that extent. She had her pride.

Rey was glad she didn’t when it proved unnecessary. There was a large group of her coworkers leaning along the kitchenette counters, talking about weekend plans. Even if Sith Ben showed up, he would find it harder to single her out.

Tallie and Finn were using microwaves, letting their meals heat up to the max, eight full minutes on the timer. 

Tallie’s hands were full with something that smelled strongly of basil and marinara. It must have been bulk lasagna night last night. Her voice was flavored with the confidence of a woman who’d decided that nothing could possibly be more stressful than children. “So I’ve got to get up there early this weekend to open the cabin. The kids just can’t be trusted to do it. With their level of interest, I might as well sell it instead of leaving it them.”

Finn’s stood sentry over the microwave. No matter his feelings on cabins, he would participate or be labeled a snob. “Oh I feel you. Mine have been forcing me to drive cross country for softball tournaments. This is my only weekend off.” 

Tallie nodded, a placid response to Finn’s comfortable chatter. Rey tried to slide into the room, moving silently to the water filter. No use, however. Tallie leaped to the opportunity for less familiar topics. “Rey! How is it going?”

Rey shrugged as she held her nalgene beneath the cold stream of water. “No complaints, it’s almost the weekend.”

Finn joined in, sounding no more interested than he’d been about cabins and softball. “Big plans?”

“Still decorating the new apartment. We just finished getting the living room painted, and I just got permission from the landlord to redo the bathroom—”

Tallie cut in, conspiratorially. “Is your boyfriend helping paint?”

God how awkward. “Oh...no, he’s not… We’re not together.” Tallie and Finn were struck speechless until the microwave pinged, prompting Finn to turn away. 

The lack of eye contact gave him enough cover to address the elephant in the room. “So ‘we’ means…”

She could do this. If she just said it confidently, they would fall in line. Nobody _wanted_ to worry about her. All she had to do was assure them there was no cause for concern. “Armitage’s taking the spare room and paying a little more on the rent. He couldn’t afford to pay the lease-breaking fee.”

A low voice interrupted her show & tell. "What do you mean he didn't break the lease? You let him just take the room? What if you date someone new and he's _there_ in the apartment?" Ben had joined them, looming tall and frustratingly attractive over the cluster of women. His presence always set Rey’s nervous system on fire.

It was something about that combination of male resting bitch face and dark rimmed glasses that made it impossible to meet his eyes. She could never look him the face long enough to even figure out his eye color. That and his blunt demeanor made his contributions typically feel like personal attacks.

"This clearly bothers you Ben, though I'm not sure _why—"_ Armitage might be a user but he made her feel important. She still feels important, but doesn't have to fake orgasms anymore so when people act shocked about her situation she just shrugs.

"We're all thinking it, I'm the only one who'll say it to your face."

She moved towards the exit, trying to slide discreetly between her coworkers bodies. They seemed to be holding their ground with determination. Fucking vultures, just feeding of this dramatic bullshit Ben was throwing down.

“Well if I can handle Bazine then Armitage can just deal—”

“Bazine?”

Rey slipped away, fleeing back to her cube.

* * *

Work happy hours never managed to get farther than the dive bar across the contract parking lot. _Sleepy’s_ was a joint for sure, but they had a side room perfect for the gang from third-floor. Most of his coworkers had showed up early, glad to cut an extra half-hour from the workday under the guise of networking. Ben had as well - this dark, vinyl-upholstered room was the last place he had to look for a ride on Saturday.

Ben had alluded to his eye surgery a few times and been ghosted by his targets. He’d been hoping to avoid turning to Rey for help, but while his reasoning was rock solid on that point three hours ago, now it’s less clear.

Something tense and fluttery had fixed itself to his stomach. If he hadn’t backed out of bouldering last month, he might not have even known what it was. Today, a wiser Ben knew it was fear. Only fear made a good drink taste like vinegar. The rational voice in his head knew how to call a shuttle or reschedule an appointment, but the animal fighting for its life in his stomach was sure that a failure to secure a ride, or any proof that someone on the planet cared about his well-being, was Darwinist doom.

Which is what brought him next to spineless Rey after a jolting voyage across the bar. He couldn’t remember what exactly he’d said at first. Hopefully something suave. 

Her voice shook slightly as she swirled her glass of house white. "If only I had a car right now I'd help—"

"That's fine you can use mine. I drive automatic."

Rey blinked, tilting her head up to stare at the bar’s wall of available liquor. "What?"

"Didja think I was too testosterone for an auto? Who's sexist now?" He surprised her. He hadn’t thought he’d be able to. Maybe he hadn’t lost his touch. The pride in it distracted him from that nasty twisting fear for a sweet moment.

Rey sighed, turning now to stare at this elbow. Closer by inches until he could catch her eye contact. "I never said you were sexist, and testosterone isn't an adjective "

"God you're so sober. But that's a plus in a designated driver. Perfect." He turned, mirroring her half turn from the bar completing an intimate arc between their elbows.

Rey sighed. “You know I’d love to help but—”

Ben’s gut went sour. “Oh fuck, are you actually going to say no?” He covered his mouth, a caricature of shock.

Rey _looked embarrassed._ “No! Ah...”

Oh thank Christ. Finally, after days of anxiety, he was sure again in his own survival. “That’s the office sweetheart we know and love.”

Rey blushed. God, she probably thought _office sweetheart_ was a compliment. Well, maybe it could be a compliment. It just wasn’t the one he usually thought about giving her. Typically when his brain was a little less muddled and distracted by the graceful loop her finger made along the rim of her wine glass, he could appreciate her real virtue- her keen intelligence and biting wit. Those things she kept choking back to seem relatable.

But tonight he needed her to care about being relatable. So he’d let the false compliment stand.

* * *

Rey hadn’t shut her blinds Friday night, which was the surest sign that she’d been a little drunk. Those blinds were her privacy, especially since she’d gotten the short stick when picking the rooms in new apartment post-breakup. Her window faced into the courtyard of the newly constructed complex, meaning that the nudist across the way had a guaranteed audience if she didn’t police the drapes regularly.

And Saturday morning open blinds meant shafts of light would shift the color tone of her dreams to a hot peach color, the hue of eyelids fighting a doomed battle against the sun.

She rolled over, the twist along her spine squeezing a groan from her throat like toothpaste from a spent tube.

The light was pretty, at least. And her bed was comfortable, the comforter just the right temperature to encourage day-long snuggling. Last night had been good- no seriously embarrassing revelations or missteps.

No shame to recall, not even when Ben was—

Oh shit. Ben.

Rey grabbed her phone from the nightstand setting her earrings flying off the farside into the plush carpet, perhaps never to be found again.

Nothing blinked on her phone. No texts, no calls, no emails, nothing.

He’d been a bit drunk. Perhaps it had just been a careless joke.

Hopefully it had been a joke.

Rey shut her eyes, trying to picture what spending a day driving Ben around would be like.

She winced. Terrible.

But as long as he didn’t text her, she was off the hook. Until he gave her real details or some follow-up, there was no way for her to perform the task he’d conscripted her to.

Until he texted, she was free.

A sound from the living room disrupted her morning paradise. _Thunk. Ting. “Teeheehee.”_

She was free to take care of herself, which meant she’d have to get out of this fucking apartment and away from goddamn _Bazine._

With the alacrity of an assassin fleeing justice, Rey whirled through her room until fully clothed in a simple yellow sundress, blister-proof sandals and cheap sunglasses. Her hair was down, limp, half-heartedly wavey, but it would have to do. No time to waste. She had to take herself on a date if she was going to survive.

* * *

“Hey Solo, how’s it going?” Finn’s voice reverberated from the speaker of Ben’s cell phone, echoing dimly against the tile backsplash of the kitchen. He needed both hands if he was going to flip the pancake without breaking the perfectly circular shape.

Ben shouted over the sizzle of the griddle. “Finn! Good, what’s up? Don’t you have church?”

“It’s not until later. Since my schedule cleared up I want to drive you to your appointment if I can.” _Ah, sweet vindication._ Finn must be riddled with guilt. Or not, who knew. Either way, now instead of zero expressions of concern about his life Ben was up to two.

“Well I did manage to get Rey to take me—”

“Oh, ah...” The silence set Ben hovering between eager to punish and eager to please. What if turning Finn away now meant not have Finn around next time?

The prospect of alienating one of his two lifelines set words tumbling from his lips. “But I’ll let her know she’s off the hook for this part. Thanks man. See you in forty-five?”

Finn’s relief was audible through the phone. “Awesome, see you then.”

The line severed with a click, and Ben tapped over to his messages. He’d had Rey’s number for years, but the only message in the chain was their initial _hey this is Rey from work_ transaction. Time to take the plunge into outside-work-acquaintanceship.

_Hey Rey - you’re off the hook for this morning. A buddy is driving me to the appointment. Could you pick me up from the clinic at 2?_

He waited a few seconds - maybe she’d see it and confirm quickly. After a few heartbeats, the waiting soured. She’d get it eventually- he had to focus now on getting his docs together for the surgery. 

* * *

There weren’t many, or any, sunny days like this so far into summer. It was early enough that the breeze was actually cool. If Rey had started out even an hour later she’d have been face with a desert-esque slap in the face, perhaps even a tumbleweed. But today, now, the world was emerald and breezy and joyful.

That didn’t mean she’d stay outside, though. In about fifteen minutes the sweet spot would be gone. Which was why now Rey was strategically sliding in through the front doors of the neighborhood single-screen theatre.

Two hours of _Dirty Dancing_ and maybe a double feature of _Ghost_ would be the best Saturday a summer girl could ask for.

The line was short, almost as though most folks in this part of town had other things to do than sign up for four-plus hours of cinematic escape at 10 am. The short line was a blessing - if she’d had more time to mull over her choices she might have detected a trickle of self-doubt.

But no, she was free and living out loud. Settled in an exactly middle seat of row 5 in the cushiest, emptiest theatre she’d ever seen, Rey checked her phone one last time. There was one message - from Ben no less.

It made her heart sing.

The preview said it all : _Hey Rey - you’re off the hook…_

She silenced her phone, and slouched down into the velvet upholstery with relish.

* * *

Finn’s arrival was timely and obvious. Ben had been trying to carefully reconstruct one of his more delicate pairs of sunglasses, pressing the tinted glass oh-so-gently back into the frames, when Finns’ horn blasted from the driveway.

The glasses fell from Ben’s hands, saved only by the lucky decision to take the task on in the living room couch.

When he got home, he’d finally be able to wear sunglasses. He could picture it now, walking in the sunshine, eyes relaxed from their instinctive squint. The rosey prospect of it was enough to keep him from snarking at Finn as he slid into the passenger seat.

Finn watched calmly as Ben fastened his seatbelt. “Hey man, you nervous?”

“Yeah, mostly excited though.”

“Need to swing by a pharmacy or anything to pick up drops?”

“Nope, got ‘em all at home ready to go.”

“Cool, cool.”

They pulled away, turning along the route to the highway, each focused on the road.

“So, who’d driving you home?”

“Rey — she offered to help last night.”

Finn was speechless for a long moment. “She _offered?_ ”

“Yeah, why?” Something stabbed his lung - was it so impossible that Rey would offer? Sure in reality he’d had to twist her arm a bit, but that shouldn’t be Finn’s baseline expectation.

“I mean, I thought she hated you. If she was a chameleon, she’d probably change color when you show up.”

It’s not like he thought they were friends but hearing Finn’s perspective still hurt. “I needed someone, and she literally never says no.”

Finn shrugged.

“And yeah, I know I scare her a bit for some reason. She’s kind of passive.” Ben glanced over, catching a wily quirk of Finn’s brow.

“But it doesn’t have to be like that, I can be nice. She’ll see.”

Finn let out a breath slowly, letting it sound off like a low whistle. “I mean, if you two stopped circling each other like lunch hour was fight club we’d all profit, so by all means you have my blessing.”

* * *

Rey floated out of the theatre at 2:30, carried by the perfumed wind of nostalgia emanating from the theater. She was almost carried straight out into the street before she awoke to her surroundings.

Dark.

Loud.

Wet.

One of those summer rainstorms that only made sense after accounting for the previous scorchers that had no doubt evaporated the sweat of every biker and jogger in the tri-state area. Clearly today was not going as she’d expected. Her umbrella was most definitely back at the apartment.

Rey fished her cell phone from her purse, tapping the volume and data back on. Within seconds, a few revelations were had.

First, there was a severe storm warning for, like, _all_ the counties.

Second, she had a flurry of texts from both Work Finn and Ben.

Third, she should have read Ben’s text.

Finn’s popped up first, being more recent.

_Hey Rey, just wanna say thank you for helping Ben out_

_I know he’s been, well, Ben all the time but he is super grateful you’re stepping up_

_I’m dropping him off, text me if anything goes wrong later_

_Also, loved the meme you sent out on Friday, very nice_

If that wasn’t enough to make her stomach drop out to her feet, Ben’s was.

_Hey Rey- you’re off the hook for this morning. A buddy is driving me to the appointment. Could you pick me up from the clinic at 2?_

Clinic at 2.

CLiNic aT 2:00 PM _today._ Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Okay- this had to be salvageable. The clinic, according to a quick google search, was approximately thirty minutes south. She just had to walk home in the storm, get her car, drive out there. She’d only be an hour late, maybe a bit more. He could probably hold out for an hour.

Rey tapped the icon for the clinic on her phone, popping the directions up. A robotic voice sounded unexpectedly.

“This location will close in thirty minutes.”

No time to waste. She had to let him know… but perhaps she could avoid the angry rebuke she would surely earn by admitting how late she’d be.

Rey quickly sent a message. Hopefully someone would still be there so now-blind-Ben would know what it said.

_On my way! :)_

The guilt clawing up her throat made the entire journey home, to the car, to the suburban clinic that much longer. Rain pelted her windshield, forcing her and all her fellow travelers to a crawl on the freeway. When she finally pulled up to the clinic, the parking lot was bleak and empty.

Except for a tall man pressed up tight against the cement-block wall underneath a drenched blue fabric awning.

She almost wasn’t sure it was him. Maybe this was some _other_ patient, totally abandoned. Maybe Ben called a cab.

Rey pulled forward. Aside from the thick gauze bandage, there was the telltale curl of dark hair, the broad shoulders and lanky frame of her workplace nemesis.

She rolled down the window.

“Sorry I’m late.”

* * *


	2. Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Porn

Ben lumbered forward, but within a few steps it was clear he had no fucking clue where he was going.

“Wait, I’ll get the door.”

“How…What time is it?”

Rey paused. Lie? She could totally lie. It was on the tip of her tongue. _It’s 2:30, I’m a bit late._ Surely Mr. Honesty here deserved a little prank now and then.

“I’m later than I planned, the roads were terrible.”

Ben hummed as he cautiously guided himself into her passenger seat. “The rain seems loud, but then again I don’t know if I’ve listened to it before like this.”

Guilt choked her.

This was possibly the least accusatory sentence she’d ever heard Ben utter in their entire acquaintanceship.

The GPS guided her to his apartment. A townhome, well landscaped. She’d made fun of people living in these, those folks satisfied with living in something completely blank. Her apartment, cheap and riddled with inefficiencies, suited her.

Ben fumbled with his seatbelt. Shit, he’d need help. Rey threw herself out of the car, whipping around to the passenger side just as the heavy metal swung out gingerly.

“Hold on, let me help—”

“I got...nah, I don’t. Will you just guide me a bit?”

Ben levered himself from the low seat, his body suddenly within an inch of hers. A shiver trailed down her spine at the proximity. It was so easy to forget his intimidating presence while he curled sightless in the car. Now he was still huge, still a threat, but one that looked where her face might be with a lost, embarrassed expression.

“Listen, it’s late. I’m going to order some food. Would you stay to get it when it arrives? After, I’ll pay for your taxi home. Unless—”

“Unless?”

“I mean, you could stay. Eat dinner. Help me pack up leftovers.”

It sounded...nice. Domestic. Thursday night she’d ordered a pizza and eaten it alone in her room, sitting on a towel over her comforter. The last time she’d eaten a meal with a legitimate friend… she couldn’t remember when.

And the first person to offer, to break that streak, was the office bully.

Rey hardened her heart. A little guilt couldn’t be enough seasoning to make additional time with Ben palatable.

“I prefer to eat with people that enjoy my company.”

Ben reached out, first finding her upper arm before sliding his grip down to her wrist. “I do enjoy your company.” His palm was warm against her skin, almost sticky with residue from the rainwater. The fine hairs along her arm stood up in awareness.

God, was she blushing? Only an idiot would ignore months of annoying social feau paxs at the first sign of kindness. “That sounds too concise to fit your honesty rule. Or is that whole cruel-but-fair thing just for when you can make me look foolish?”

“I’m not trying to be cruel - I’m trying to be real with you. Most social graces are just white lies. You’re good at the social shit, it’s no surprise you don’t appreciate what I’m putting out there.”

“So I’m not just spineless, I’m a liar?” A nasty voice from the corner of her mind replied - _you’re both._

Ben tutted, shifting from foot to foot with a sheepish expression on his face. "I don't like watching you waste time with that bullshit. The idea of you cutting through the performance of it straight to honesty— I think about it."

What the fuck did that even mean? He _thinks_ about it. Rey stared at him, relishing the freedom to do so without his knowledge. As far as he knew, she might be walking away, or completely ignoring him. He didn’t have to know she was appreciating the tumble of curls over the bandage just above his ear. He couldn’t know she was cataloging the dip in the lower lip he was worrying with his teeth.

Was this _negging_? It was the only explanation she could think of for the hot flood of curiosity answering his backhanded compliment. Would Planned Parenthood take away her feminism card for even considering...

"That's kinky but also comical seeing as this is the most time we have ever spent together."

“I got the impression you were scared of me.”

Well, she was scared of him in some ways. He pointed out where she failed and provoked her most petty and snarky instincts. Rey was sure he saw her too well. Waiting for him to expose her was like moving with a knife pressed against her neck.

It was silly to think it but… there was an unshakable suspicion that he’d been reading her thoughts for months. That he knew all the bitchy things she thought to herself in meetings, all her frustrations, and to top it off— her attraction to him. How could he not? Nobody else made her lose her train of thought mid-argument. Nobody else set her off balance that way.

He leaned over the kitchen island towards her, his head cocked to turn his ear towards where she might be standing. The only hint that he was waiting for her answer was the rhythmic shake of his foot tapping the cupboards below.

Well he couldn’t see her now. This was her best chance to confront the hold he hand over her. Maybe the truth would set her free.

“You make me uncomfortable. Part of that is that I find you attractive.”

His face went slack, lips stuck in a startled ‘o’.

“My friend Rose diagnosed it as a ‘lusty hatred.’”

“I want to meet your friend.”

Rey smacked his arm, slightly harder than strictly playful. “You’re still going to be basically blind tomorrow. What if you accidentally walk into sunshine and turn to ash?”

“I’m temporarily blind, not a vampire.”

“Just saying. Do you need me to stay?”

“Need…” He was hesitating. _Why_ was he hesitating? What was it about admitting he might need someone here that would have him— 

Rey tried a different approach. “Want. Do you want me to stay.”

The tension in the corners of his eyes faded. His lips quirked up in the corners. “Yes.”

Rey exhaled a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Good. I’ll order take out. Pizza should be easy to eat with your eyes closed.”

* * *

The darkness continually pushing in on his eyes was frustrating as hell. As fun as it was to play emotional chicken with Rey, tension still contracted his face and shoulders until the ache required an NSAID. Maybe it was bedtime.

Ben pressed the rim of his cold glass against his lip before interrupting Rey’s trailing tale of her roommate’s new girlfriend. “I need to change into my pajamas.”

“Ha, really?” Were her eyes large in doubt? Or narrowed in disdain? Rey had been an easy person to read back when they’d both had sight, but in retrospect Ben had perhaps done more body-language interpretation than actual speaking.

So maybe a new strategy was required, now that his senses were compromised. Playing every line defensive would doom him to a boring outcome. Today, tonight, he would be an optimist. Ben adopted a smirk. “What, you were going to make me sleep in jeans? Demerits for that, nurse.”

“Fine.”

Her hand suddenly pressed against his sternum, her other palm along his hip for balance. The heat of it was distracting enough for him to be startled when Rey began to push him backwards.

Ben shuffled backwards, trusting her grip on his waistline to steer him away from certain disaster.

He counted the steps, trying to imagine where in his apartment they were. It got easier when the wood floor dissolved into carpet. His room. They were in his room.

The pressure disappeared.

“So, what do you wear to bed?”

His heart raced. How far to take this? Her voice was low, calm. “Well I never wear this shirt, for starters.”

“Okay.” Her hands found his ribcage under his henley and began tracing up his abdomen with slight tickling touches. The fabric bunched under his armpits and her hand rested on his pectorals before she coughed lightly. “Ahem, raise your arms Ben.”

He obeyed quickly holding his arms straight up like a flight coordinator on a runway. Her hands continued up, inching through his neckline. Heat from her palms warmed his cheeks. It would only take a tilt of his head to feel skin on skin, the first touch of what he hoped would be many. But he held back.

Let her drive. Rey had always been skittish.

Her careful positioning allowed the shirt to slip smoothly above his head, not once jostling his bandage. His brilliant arm placement ensured that by the end of it her chest was pressed firmly against his, her arms stretched almost too high for her reach. Rey’s breath came out soft and strained, the hot rush of it just at the top of his shoulder.

“Are you on your tiptoes, Rey?”

And then his chest was cold, her sudden absence sharpening his casual curiosity into defined desire.

“Do you wear those jeans to bed? Need anything from your dresser?”

Her voice was matter-of-fact. It left him breathless, scrabbling to recover. “Could you get a t-shirt out from the middle drawer? And no, I don’t sleep in jeans. I’ll need these off.”

Soft scraping noise of the old dresser drawer sliding out along a wooden slat. Closing it was slightly louder, with the abrupt noises of negotiation the hitches in the wood. A soft whuft of the shirt landing on the bedspread behind him.

“Alright then, let’s get these off.”

Ben held his hands wide, hoping she would infer his message - _all yours._ It must’ve translated, as she clumsily handled his belt buckle, fingers curling inefficiently over the edges into his abdomen.

Was she bending down? Or was she looking at his face as she fussed with the leather, tugging it jerkily out of the belt loops?

The belt was gone, it’s impact with the floor muffled by the thick carpet. Her fingers were tracing the edge of his jeans, sliding to the front to toy with the simple button clasp.

Her breath ghosted his collarbone. She wasn’t bent down, she must be flush with him. Blood flooded his chest, began to flow elsewhere.

“You’re blushing Ben.”

He leaned forward, hoping to whisper his response. “The more you take your time, the harder it’s gonna get.”

Rey’s breath was loud on an exhale, her hands stilled, fisted in his jeans, the zipper pulled apart and down with her firm grip. Ben tried to suppress an instinctive jolt when her nose softly traced his cheek - better to remain steady as her lips softly traced their way to his.

For as light as it was, her kiss wasn’t cautious. The pressure alternated, all there and then not at all, and all he could do was wait for her to return. Wait, or risk knocking her teeth out with his enthusiasm.

Ben dropped his arms with a slow, wide sweep. She had to be somewhere in this general direction, and he wanted to feel her in his hands. At first touch, he reached her arms, just along the crook of her elbows bent in their task of disrobing him. He traced up along her arm, too distracted by her teasing kisses to fully appreciate the toned muscle there.

Rey hummed when he got to her neck. He hadn’t had to rely so much on a neck before— sightless, it was a fascinating body part. With his fingers curled under her ears, palm gently pressing along the outside of her throat, he could finally control and direct her just enough.

Their kisses deepened, her head tilting with his gentle direction. She tasted like the Andes mints they’d eaten after dinner, and a bit like the canned gin & tonic they’d had as a nightcap. Her hair tickled his fingertips, the scent of her shampoo sending weak tendrils of lilac around him.

God, this was actually happening. Rey had her hand in his pants, he had his tongue down her throat, they might actually fuck. A thrill traveled down his spine, suspiciously similar to the one he’d craved during their battles at work— that swooping sensation when she’d stared at him with murder in her eyes.

He pulled her back just a bit, just close enough to tease her the way she’d tortured him before. “Promise me you’ll stop if this isn’t what you want.”

She gulped, soft but distinct in the silence of his bedroom. “You’re worried I’m too scared to leave?”

“If we fuck because leaving is inconvenient, the guilt would strike me dead.”

She pulled back, pulled away. One moment everything in the room was swelteringly warm, and the next he could feel the air conditioning slap his exposed skin. A quiet snick, the whir of a fan— she was in his bathroom. The draws and mirror medicine cabinet clacked. The sound of... Toothpaste? Was she brushing her teeth? What else could she be—?

The fan turned off.

Her feet padded softly on the carpet, providing the tiniest hint of her return before her hands were back. One, pulling the fabric along his waist back, and the other sliding cold and determined along his semi.

Ben gasped, shocked primarily by the cold touch and secondarily by the course of events. Rey’s hand wasn’t cold for long. Quickly it was warm, chafing along his cock, slick with lube from his stash. Her strokes were steady, her grip light.

This counted as a yes to his request, right?

His hands found their way back to his new favorite spot, curled around her neck, thumbs stroking her windpipe. He pressed his fingers along her spine, urging her close. “Just a bit tighter, sweetheart.” The words came out haltingly.

Her next few strokes obliged, and the semi transformed into full hard-on.

Ben’s breath went short. “God, I wish I could see you.”

“Nothing to see. A fully clothed woman, fisting your dick.”

“Let’s fix that.” Ben slid his hands down, palming her breasts briefly before moving down to her hemline. A dress. He vaguely remembered its’ construction, she’d worn it a few casual Friday’s back. A bright yellow sundress, modest cut with some sort of belt. High boots. Was there a zipper?

Her grip paused on the head, massaging just at the ridge with her thumb lazily tracing the tip. Who fucking cared about the zipper.

“Ungh—” he pulled up the hem, getting his palms on her ass, pulling up until her arms blocked him. “Hands in the air, Rey.”

Ben ignored the mournful twinge of his cock as she released him, the pressure above his arms dissolving. Tug by tug, he moved the fabric up and over her head, pulling it free at last with victorious grunt.

They both paused, waiting.

“So, what now? I’m getting cold.”

“Get on the bed Rey.”

“Don’t you need my help?”

“I’ll find you fine.”

* * *

Rey saw the situation a little differently now that she was naked on Ben’s bed. Her breath came short as she watched him step carefully from his jeans, climbing onto the bed with hands searching.

Ben’s face, so lost and cautious when she’d stepped away, was now something fearsome. His toned shoulders rippled as his hand clenched around her ankle, tugging her body down along the thin blankets. The heat of his hand hinted that perhaps he ran hot. He’d probably throw off her comforter if he ever made it to her bedroom.

His smirk faded, the lips relaxing into an expression of focus. What was he thinking? “Do you normally sleep at the foot of the bed?”

Ben tilted his head, the only indication that he’d heard her. His hands spread wide tracing along her legs slowly. Shit, when had she shaved last? Shit—

But his palms were already to her thighs, apparently unperturbed by the realities of her grooming routine. Those long fingers were fast at work mapping out the geography of her lingerie. Their gentle touches raised a heat within her. Rey stopped on an exhale - the absence of air intensified the sensation.

Ben’s face lowered with measured intent to her abdomen.

He kissed the swells of her hips. Open-mouthed, sucking kissed in steady progression down to her mons.

Rey waited, her lungs began to ache from the prolonged asphyxiation.

Ben raised his head, unseeing eyes open but with lids low. Looking high as fuck. “Breath, Rey.”

She obeyed, but not intentionally. His tongue and lips played with the sensitive tissue exposed by his searching fingers. It drove a gasp from the bottom of her lungs out with explosive force.

With each drag of his mouth she let her lungs deflate, long used to searching her pinnacle with that deprivation. Ben seemed to measure it, his hand resting along her ribcage. The other….

The other.

“You’re quiet.”

“Living with a roommate will do that.”

His fingers toyed, tracing the path his tongue had mapped out seconds before. “But I don’t have a roommate, Rey.” She flinched as the pads of his fingers slid in easily, gently mapping out her channel.

“Old habits—” she gasped. Rey counted the spots on his ceiling until the heat of him slid up her torso. Peeking down, Ben’s curly head was progressing along her midline until his face was buried between her breasts.

He muttered between sucking kisses on those curves. "I'm just going to keep this up until you tell me you're ready."

"I'm ready." Ready to move on to something she could understand, something she could control. The tremors rocketing up from her clit to her nipples were foreign, frightening in their power.

"Oh? Well now I know you're a liar. Rey, I have my fingers in your tight cunt and they can barely move."

Rey whimpers embarrassed. At least her can't see her blush. "Who's fault is that?" She whispers Those fingers steadily swirled, building from a silent pressure to an obscene squelching noise.

Ben chuckles. "For lying? That's on you. For you needing a bit more?" He twists his wrist, getting leverage to press and wiggle ever so slightly more, a soft squelch just beginning to sound from her. "I'll take my share of responsibility."

Rey opened her mouth to reply, to reclaim dominance in some way, but his lips were there. His arm wrapped around, pressing her up to him. The heat of his torso pressed into every inch of her exposed skin, the wet slide of his tongue distracting her from thoughts of power dynamics.

And his fingers, they began tapping that tender wall within with a frequency and force that had her whole body shivering. Her legs spasmed without permission, sliding against his firmly kneeled form.

This was not… nothing like this had… How could she lose this much control? The question ricocheted from her in a wail. “ _Why—”_

She clenched, her legs locking around Ben’s muscled torso and her hands threading along the nape of his neck. Maybe she could muffle these renegade noises along his neck.

Rey went limp. The dark room seemed white-washed, netting out to a strange grey glimmer that only slightly faded when she clenched her eyes shut. She didn’t bother to protest as Ben pulled away, rolling her over and scrunching his bedding under her hips.

The light show in her head had just begun to fade when his hand began massaging along her spine, curling around occasionally to tweak the tips of her breasts. A firm grip, a greedy hand grasping at the curve of her ass.

“Ready, Rey?”

Was she ready? What was the chance anything could ever top the lightning strike she’d just lived through? “Yeah, Ben.” She mumbled it into the mattress, revelling in her bonelessness.

His weight pressed in like a blanket, sending a shiver of satisfaction all the way to the tips of her fingers.

Ben grunted breathily as his cock slid through her labia easily, hilting with little resistance. He pulled her hips up, rolling in a sloppy circle before laying a wet kiss between her shoulder blades.

Each gentle rock of his hips nudged a spot within that his hands his already stimulated, sending little starbursts of pleasure through her. Rey heard herself whimpering rhythmically. As her own whimpers softened, she could hear him answering, chanting her name resting his head in the crook of her neck. His hand were kneading her flesh, his breath ragged.

His pace began to slow.

Something furious and determined swelled in her lungs. “Ben, I need more—”

He exhaled forcibly, moving one hand from its roost down to her clit, tracing around the sensitive nub and grinding down until—

Her body seized again, her legs stretching and clenching.

Ben stilled. His embrace shifted from it’s stiff structure to a relaxed drape, resting for a single movement before rolling to lie next to her.

“I think I saw god for a moment there.”

A bubble obstructed Rey’s throat. She giggled around it, snuggling into the relief of his warm frame.

* * *

Light filtered between the slats of the blinds decorating Ben’s bedroom. The glare was probably what woke Ben up every morning in time for work, and it sure did the trick for Rey. Maybe she’d be as peaceful as her companion if she’d thought to wrap a gauze bandage over _her_ eyes last night.

But she wouldn’t have given up those images for anything.

The memory of it sent a flush of heat through her body. Ben was long and lean, his body done a disservice by even the most tailored of his collared work-wear. His hands had been just rough enough to set her fine hairs on edge, and even now…

She needed to shower.

She needed to get dressed.

She needed to get a fucking grip.

The bathroom was tidy, but spartan. White towels, a white curtain, a black rug. Was he color blind? Rey dropped her balled-up clothes into the corner before stepping in, tuning out her disjointed thoughts in the white-noise of rushing water.

Ben’s voice broke through her trance long before she’d figured out what the fuck was happening in her head.

“Early to bed, early to rise—”

Rey shrieked, a reflexive protest to his presence in the bright bathroom. She peaked around the edge of the blurry plastic divider to see him. Ben was not widely known to be a morning person in any sense. Talking to him at work before he’d had his coffee was a mistake a person only made once.

He stood in front of the mirror, liberally dousing his eyes with drops.

“You should keep your bandage on, your eyes—” Rey stuttered.

“The shades are closed. It’s low light. And I want to see you.”

Rey _blushed._ It would be different with his eyes fixed on her. Last night was all free and easy - no knowing glances pointing out her mistakes or insecurities. She just took what she wanted. For once he was put in the position of asking, or searching. The world tilted funny here in the morning, with his eyes clear.

Ben twisted from the sink to look at her. If she could just ignore the intense focus of his eyes, he’d almost look shy. “If you’re so worried about the light—”

He flipped off the light. Weak grey ambient beams filtered through the door, left ajar. She could see his outline, backlit against the entrance. His features came into definition as he slunk closer. Ben stood just at the edge of the ceramic tub, waiting. Waiting for something.

“Rey?” He was peeking up at her, the sheet gaping to let her see his entreating expression. Those eyes though- even soft in their state of recovery, they seemed to detect too much. What would he see with his brutally honest gaze? How could she survive Ben’s candid opinion of it? “You’re tense again. Are you wondering if this is a prank?”

“Maybe.”

Rey slid back, almost panicked as Ben guided himself into the tub. The shower had been spacious for one person, but with two… His motives were easy to detect once he slid down to kneel, maneuvering her bare thigh to rest on his shoulder, resting his curly head along her abdomen.

“Nothing has changed. Still my mouth, still your pussy.” His eyes went dark as she blushed violently at his words.

“It’s not like it’s nice to look at, Ben.”

His hands spread wide, massaging from her outer thighs back up to her belly button. “You should be excited about this. Watching you come is going to make me crazy. Then I can fuck you real well. It’s the best start to the day.”

* * *

By the time they’re done, his eyes are pretty much fine

“Let me drive you.”

“I’ve got my car here, so that—”

“I’d… like to drop you off properly. Maybe it’s weird, but I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.”

The tension around her eyes eased, and the tickle of tears in the corner. “Sure.” She hadn’t brought anything aside from her purse. Rey waited by the front door as Ben rummaged for his own wallet and keys. When he finally trundled up to her, he was glowing with some sort of pride. He sunglasses sat proudly on the ridge of his nose.

Ben volunteered an explanation after Rey struggled to identify why exactly this was strange. “They’re new. My first pair, without contacts.”

Sitting in the passenger seat felt alien. The leather was supple, just like the driver side. The space under the dashboard for her legs seemed to stretch for a mile. In twenty-four hours she’d been able to reset her counter of days-without-friendly-meals _and_ days-as-chauffeur. It was nice. The sun trickled through the windshield, the light refracting into soft colors. The skyline of downtown peaked over the horizon, air hazy in the distance.

Strangest of all, her curly-haired tormenter sat in the driver's seat, eyes hidden behind a pair of designer sunglasses. His mouth was soft, curling into a gentle and sincere smile.

He pulled into the driveway thirty minutes later, throwing her car into park. 

“I’ll call an uber from here. Can’t have us just shuttling each other back and forth forever.”

“Yeah, that would be crazy.” But she could picture it. Taking turns. Riding in comforting silence, trusting that everything they’d need said was out in the open. Knowing that neither of them would tolerate negligence.

Yeah, it wasn’t hard to picture. Which was why the words tumbled from her lips.

“So, you want to come in? Just for a second, I mean.”

Ben’s face, already seductive with a relaxed smile, warmed. “Sure.”

She missed the keyhole a few times, distracted with the entrancing alchemy of his eyes. Finally the key latched in, and with a twist and a pop she slid forward into her home.

“Rey! Where were you?” Fucking hell. She could hear in now, the memory of Ben’s voice _what if you bring someone home and he’s there._

“Oh, hey Armitage. I was helping a… helping Ben with his eye surgery.”

“Well thank god you’re back. The toilet is doing something weird and I can’t figure out how to—” Armitage stopped abruptly, seeing beyond the slant of the front door finally as Ben slid his foot forward.

No one spoke for a pregnant moment.

Rey was caught in the no-man's land between. Armitage hadn’t moved, still blocking the entry into the apartment. Ben filled the space behind her, holding heavy oak door open with one arm and the other stretched to the frame, bracing his weight.

Ridiculous. Absurd. Hypocritical. Fucking Armitage.

“Is Bazine here? She might be able to clear the shit from the plumbing.” She could hear the valley girl tilt in her tone, confident that Armitage would technically understand the question yet fail to respond to its inherent acidity, unable to detect it.

At least he jolted from his stupor. He backed up half a pace, letting Rey finally step into the building. His chest was puffed up, eyes caged. “I’m Armitage.”

Ben spoke, the words spoken close enough for Rey to feel the air shift just above the curve of her ear. “Oh, I know.”

Armitage continued to stare Ben down, even as he shifted topics. His tone was cavalier. “Rey, could you throw this in with your laundry? You’re running it today, right?”

“Oh, right. Yeah okay.” Typical Armitage. Maybe things would go back to normal.

That dream of normalcy flew out the window when Armitage _did_ finally meet her eyes again. His expression was blazing, pupils dilated with adrenaline. Something false and angry twitched along his cheek. “Also, I was wondering… I don’t watch TV here so it doesn’t seem fair to split the cable bill 50/50. Oh, and I added my items to the grocery list.”

Ben interjected before she had a chance to identify what had gotten wedged up Armitage’s metaphorical sphincter. “Why are you asking her? She’s not your mother. This is weird codependent bullshit.”

Armitage wheeled back to him. “Listen buddy, Rey and I go way back.”

“Yeah, I know. That doesn’t mean she wants to take care of you. She’s not your nanny.” _She’s not your NANNY. She’s NOT your nanny. SHE’S not your nanny._ It was a beautiful sentiment, whichever way he said it. Maybe she could get it cross stitched and hung on the wall—

“I think you’re projecting bud.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Right, so you think I’m projecting those printed articles about the renting market on the coffee table?”

Oh right, she’d forgotten about those.

Armitage glanced at them, double-taking when he saw Ben wasn’t lying. “What do those matter?”

“You idiot. That’s probably the most direct thing Rey could even think of to tell you to move the fuck out.” Was she proud that Ben knew her communication style so well? Or horrified that her communication style was as dysfunctional as he described?

Armitage didn’t seem as impressed with Ben’s insight. “Fuck off, asshole.”

Ben began to laugh. “Jesus Rey, how did you even _start_ a relationship with someone this thick?”

Armitage turned to her, face blotchy and arms crossed. “Rey tell this dick off.”

Rey held her coffee mug up to her lips, despite having swallowed moments ago. Maybe if they thought it would take too long for her to respond they’d keep the fight just between them.

“Rey?”

Oh god. Defending Armitage would be the most actively dishonest thing she’d ever done. But claiming she _wasn’t_ encouraging him to move out would cement her fate — she’d be his roommate with or without Bazine for at least another year.

She couldn’t afford that. Having an angry temporary roommate was worse than having an oblivious long term resident.

She had to be brave.

“I do think you and Bazine should have your own place. She can’t like having your ex ten feet away at all times.”

Bazine piped up, almost forgotten across the open space in the living room. “I mean, it’s fine.”

Ben beamed at the proof of his point. 

Armitage looked stricken. “You think I treat you like a nanny?”

It was like hitting a puppy. Guilt clawed up her throat until it could reach out and scratch. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes.

“..No. No, I offer to help out and you take me up on it. If I’m stretching myself too thin it’s my fault. Just ignore him, Armitage.”

Ben went stiff beside her as Armitage relaxed, leaning on the counter as though resting after a vicious battle.

It was time for Ben to go.

He apparently agreed, moving with her towards the door, whispering furiously. “Why are you letting him do this to you? You’re not some landlady, you deserve better than that. He’s fucking that chick in whatever side room while you buy his groceries and do his laundry.”

Ben clearly saw her as some passive servant woman he planned to liberate. Rey’s hands were shaking, adrenaline sending blood into every extremity readying her for flight.

Fuck flight.

“You don’t want me to just _be honest_ or _have a spine_. You want me to be an asshole! You want me to just horde my feelings and time away, like you!”

He inhaled, clearly preparing to argue. Rey cut him off. Asshole brute obviously thought he knew the secret to the universe.

“No!” She poked him hard in the collarbone. “You are too afraid to admit your behavior can hurt people, or help them. And I avoided you because I knew you’d never apologize for hurting me, if I let you. Now you want me to burn all my other friendships because they’re _built on lies_ or some bullshit.”

She let her whole palm rest on his chest, stared at the image it made.

“I can’t treat everyone the way we treated each other for the last twenty four hours. I’d end up totally alone.”

Rey pushed, grateful for his submission to it as he shuffled backwards out of the apartment into the hallway. He stood there, staring at her with those deep brown eyes, mouth screwed down in a frown and eyebrows straight, listening to her intently.

“Rey, can we just —”

Armitage’s voice carried over her head from deep within the apartment. “This asshole is the reason we’ve been stranded in the apartment since 3 pm yesterday.”

She shut the door. Silence returned, echoing in air filled with polite and harmless half-truths.

* * *


	3. Clear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end

* * *

He stared at the solid door an inch from his nose as though it would answer the questions reverberating in his head if he just held on long enough.

She took the car at 3pm?

But she’d have had to leave at 1:30 if she was going to…

_She’d forgotten._ She’d never texted him back. He’s assumed it was her after everything went dark and his phone vibrated in his pocket, but…

The office goody-two-shoes had planned to stand him up. Leave him blind, in the rain, alone.

Ben’s stomach twisted violently. All of that bluster over the last twenty-four hours was more than a shy woman being defensive or flustered. He’d grossly overestimated how strong their acquaintanceship had been.

Which… explained a lot.

First and foremost, that she’d just thrown him out of her apartment.

Ben drifted to that driveway, staring at her car for a long moment before realizing that he’d begged her to take him along this morning. God, he’s sounded so _desperate._ Nausea threatened to overwhelm him. He took a long gulp of air, holding it until the sinking sensation passed.

_My sister diagnosed it as a ‘lusty hatred.’_

_I avoided you because I knew you’d never apologize._

Nausea, again.

Ben tapped his phone, watching the digital rendering of a taxi on its way with distant eyes.

* * *

Armitage had been pissed for a good three days after that altercation. There was something unattractive about how fussy it made him. Rey had generally tolerated him well as a platonic roommate before. He’d been a little cavalier, and it was occasionally lonely. Particularly when she found herself watching movies in her bedroom instead of the living room, uncomfortable with the swelling romantic theme music in shared space.

After Ben’s accusation, that tentative balance had evaporated. 

Conversations about bills had gotten transactional, for one. Less _can I pay you in a week_ and more _I’ve venmo’d you $27.13._ He’d put a divider in the pantry for their groceries, and ripped up the grocery list they’d been sharing on the fridge.

And of course, that purse kept showing up on their dining room table. _Bazine._ Rey hadn’t even gotten a glimpse of her yet, by some miracle of time management. It was weird, like living in a haunted house. Sometimes Rey could hear a giggle, but by the time she peeked into the living room to check the door to Armitage’s room would click.

Ben had done this.

Rey was in turns angry that he’d broken a symbiotic relationship, and glad she didn’t have to look Bazine in the face and act like they’d be friends.

Perhaps she could have gotten used to the new formal pattern of her friendship with Armitage, but those hopes were dashed on the eighth day as Rey tried to bravely settle into the couch in the living room, facing her fear of discomfort to watch a movie.

God the couch was so much more comfortable for this sort of thing. Her spine was thanking her in spades. Rey curled up around her favorite throw pillow, relishing the dancing cartoons reenacting a classic fairy tale.

A key clicked into the lock of the front door, heralding Armitage (and probably Bazine’s) return.

Rey kept her eyes on the television in studied disinterest. She could hear Armitage striding around, setting something heavy down on the kitchen table and drifting back into the living room.

Oddly, he didn’t leave the room.

"Oh, maybe don't—" he reached over from behind the couch and snatched the pillow from her hands.

Rey rocketed up, trying to catch the pillow in motion. "Armitage that's my meemaws pillow—?"

His face was magenta as he clutched the pillow to his stomach. "I know but well, I haven't had a chance to dry clean it and have you noticed how expensive dry cleaning is?"

"...why would you need to clean this priceless heirloom Armitage?" With a final tug, Armitage released the pillow. Rey turned it in her hands, searching now that she knew to look. A strange mayo-like stain spread across the back. "You...ejaculated onto my childhood comfort pillow?"

"No! I'm not some creep. Bazine and I were—"

No. No more Mr. Nice-Rey.

"Stop. Stop there." Rey stands "Pack. You're done here. Call Bazine and have her help you move."

* * *

Ben stopped mid stride in his approach to the breakroom Friday afternoon. The typical lunch crowd was gathered there, talking in abnormally hushed tones.

Tallie’s voice was unmistakable. “So what do you think that was all about last week?”

“She apparently offered to drive him. A miracle. I thought they hated each other.” Finn, sort-of going to bat for him. More than he deserved.

“I hope she doesn’t go for him, he’s so bossy. He’d just take advantage.” Apparently Tallie was not a fan. A week ago he’d ignore her comments, sure that she was just being catty. Now though...

“I don’t think I’d call him bossy. He’s just bold.”

“Well his type of bold has an effect that gets him what he wants. Which makes him bossy.”

“You think Rey would just roll over and do whatever he says?” Finn’s voice was smaller, almost sheepish.

“The connection will end the minute she doesn’t. He’s a bully.”

If there was ever a time for fearless honesty, it was now. Ben stepped forward into the breakroom, taking momentary relish in the stricken looks across Finn & Tallie’s faces.

“Rey’s no shrinking violet, she stood up for herself just fine.”

Finn took a step towards him and thus towards the only exit available. “Bud, is everything—”

“Surgery went fine. Rey picked me up as promised. And now, 20-20 vision. Not just in hindsight.”

Tallie’s eyes were no longer watching him, staring distractedly at his elbow. Ben turned, wondering if he blocked someone’s way.

Rey.

She looked haunted, just a bit. Maybe he’d be the only one to notice, having been a collector of her furious facial expressions for so long. She spared him a quick glance before moving into the small room with purpose. 

“Hey guys. So hard to focus this close to the weekend, am I right?”

Finn and Tallie’s shoulders relaxed. “Hey Rey. How was the weekend adventure with Ben?”

Rey turned, resting her back against the counter top, a hot mug of brewing tea nestled between her palms. She met Ben’s eyes before answering, her tone almost questioning.

“It was fine?”

“Yep. Fine.” Fine was not actually how he’d describe it. But for once he’d let her keep her guard up. Frankly, he’d rather not call her bluff on this one. It was better not to provoke whatever real feelings she had about that weekend. No matter what they were, it would be hard to see them, to share them here in the breakroom.

Ben’s skin crawled. She might as well be holding a gun on him. What if she told them? What would she even say?

Rey’s mouth curled up into a playful smirk, and she brought up her mug to rest the warm ceramic against her cheek. She spoke, turning belatedly to Finn and Tallie. “Anyway, I’m looking for a new roommate. Will you ask around? I posted it up on craigslist but I’d rather not room with a random person.”

* * *

Ben watched her from his corner of the bar. The orange light of the incandescent bulbs put an amber ripple in her now artfully curled hair. It had been increasingly hard to avoid her over the last few weeks. At the watercooler she’d been as bubbly as ever if a bit more daring. 

A voice in his head whispered each time _maybe she listened._

He had to squash that impulse once and for all. It had got him into this mess, into the frayed and nervous state. People don’t change. He would never have the impact he craved on someone like that. Like her.

But when she met his eyes, direct and audacious, it sent him scampering back to his desk with a short excuse called over his shoulder.

The bar had emptied in fits and starts over the course of the evening, transitioning from professional steam-blowing to the trashier, more desperate cast of late night Friday revelry. This spot particularly wasn’t popular with the dance hall crowd, and would be unnervingly empty in about forty-five minutes. He would leave soon, just… just wanted to finish his drink. 

Maybe Rey would get a ride with one of her pilot-fish friends. Which one would it be? Tallie’s car was always strangely sticky inside, side effect of having two young kids. Finn never offered rides to women, his aversion somehow muddled in with right-wing Christianity and his own awkward fear of women in general. Amilyn...Amilyn would be fine. She would give Rey a safe ride home.

Amilyn was adjusting her purse, finding her fall jacket from the back of her chair. 

Rey sat, giving no hint of following suit.

Fuck.

Ben turned back to the bar, to his half-empty Rob Roy, scowling into it.

“Tallie and Finn are heading out. Looks like it’s just us to close down the bar.” Her voice was warm, close to his shoulder. Ben turned, trying to hide the instinctive path his eyes took along the line of her arm and across her collar bones.

She couldn’t possibly expect him to pretend he hadn’t let his lips trace that path.

But he would, all the same, for his own sanity.

“Shouldn’t you go with them? This isn't’ a good neighborhood to walk home in.”

“They offered. I said no.”

Ben scoffed, still staring fixedly at the dip at the base of her neck. “Making impulsive drunk decisions isn’t the same as having healthy boundaries, Rey. You’re barking up the wrong tree here.”

“Ben, will you give me a ride home?”

“Are you even listening?”

“I think you owe me a ride. I trust you to get me home safe.”

She sat in the bucket seat of his car, the passenger seat again. It felt like years ago when she’d sat here before, stomach tied in knots at the prospect of being subjected to his potential interest, quickly followed by fury at his professed disinterest.

Rey waited until Ben had pulled out of the parking garage, waited until the frantic pace of downtown slowed into the low simmer of weekend traffic in the borough. 

They hit a stoplight.

It was time.

“What are you doing?”

Rey exhaled forcefully. Her hand traced the leather of the seats, trying to take comfort from the patches warmed by her body. “I think we’re being short-sighted.”

Ben didn’t respond. She could hear a dull mechanical sound, the shift of the gears. The car sped up abruptly. They must be moving through the light. Without eyesight, the velocity was impossible to ignore, yet comforting. No wonder kids fell asleep in the backseats of their parents cars.

“So I should forgive you for forgetting to pick me up, and you should forgive me for being pushy?.”

“You were pushy, and I didn’t like it. I don’t like conflict. I don’t like being wrong.”

“Rey—”

“I miss you. I miss the way I felt that morning. I want that back. If I have to admit that I was wrong, push back more often,” her hands gripped the leather seat, her jaw clenched, “I will.”

He hesitated, looking at her with a guarded expression. “What about the way I made you feel after? Or the way I made you feel at work every day before that?” Could he trust what she was offering? The temptation of having her care about him, of mattering to her, battered against his control.

“Do you think I haven’t noticed how careful you’ve been at work lately?”

His hands tightened their grip on the steering wheel, making a soft squeak against the leather.

“Anyway, I like the idea of you learning how to be careful for me. It makes our connection feel...stronger, somehow.”

Ben exhaled, feeling his ribs finally relax after hours of tension. “Yeah, I see what you mean.”

* * *


End file.
